The Homecoming

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The Homecoming Page 23

by Robyn Carr


  “He has such a big mouth. That’s probably why I haven’t ever brought anyone with me to meet Oscar before.”

  “Do your parents know what you did?”

  He shrugged. “I didn’t tell them. I don’t know who the Spellmans told. It doesn’t matter, Iris. No matter what any accident report or jury says, Oscar and I were in it together. It was our accident. I tried to help because I could, that’s all.”

  * * *

  When Iris got to school on Monday morning she saw what she expected. Many of the teachers had been in the building over the weekend to get a good start on their personal holiday decorating. There were wreaths and garlands, Santas and elves, images of gift-wrapped boxes on doors and Christmas trees on windows.

  She brought her two boxes of decorations from home and, for lack of a better idea, put them in the cubicle her student assistants used. The corridor that the school nurse, counselor, assistant principal and office staff shared looked like it could really use some cheering. But she had too much to do and it would have to wait until after school. She had phone calls to make, meetings to attend, paperwork to process and a couple of teachers to talk to about special presentations for students.

  When she got back to her office after grabbing a quick lunch, the girls were giggling. She poked her head into the cubicle. “Someone making milk come out of his nose again?” she asked.

  Krista lifted up a gnarled pile of twinkle lights from one of Iris’s boxes. “No, not that. This year can I please help you put these decorations away so that next year Misty doesn’t have to deal with this disaster?”

  “By all means, you’re hired. But I want you to know something. I put them away neatly and very well organized. In the eleven months I wasn’t looking at them, they did this to themselves. I think they get bored and unhappy....”

  “Right,” Krista said. “We’re going to stay after school and help you put them up. There’s no way you could organize this wreck and still decorate. Really, Ms. McKinley.”

  “I told you, not my fault! I’m very tidy.”

  “Right,” they both said.

  A little while later Krista left for her next class and Misty stayed on for her hour in the counselor’s office. Iris looked in on her later and saw that she seemed to have that tangle of lights pretty well organized. “Wow. Thanks, Misty.”

  “You’re welcome,” she said brightly. “They were a wreck.”

  “I know. Sorry. But in other areas of my life I’m neat as a pin. If you want some very bad news, I have lights for the house, too. I’m afraid to look at them.”

  “I’m not signing on for that,” she said.

  “Things seem to be going okay for you these days,” Iris said.

  “I think working in this office helped a lot,” she said. “I like Krista. Hey, you didn’t tell her to be my friend, did you?”

  “Of course not! I asked her to help you if you needed any orientation in this office—she’s been an assistant for a couple of years. She’s a nice person but I think she picks her own friends.”

  “She is nice. And she has some good friends—they’re nice, too. I’ve been having lunch with them sometimes. Three of them are going to the university together. They’ll be roommates.”

  “You’re going to miss her next year.”

  “We’re going to chat on Skype,” Misty said with a smile. “Stephanie asked to have lunch with us one day and I wanted to tell her to get lost, but Krista said it was fine. I asked where her new best friend was.... Okay, I didn’t say it like that. I asked her where Tiffany was and she said, Algebra. But Tiffany used to have the same lunch, the one I wasn’t invited to join. Something’s up there.”

  “Friendships change a lot,” Iris said.

  “Krista told me no matter what, try to be nice, even if it’s hard. Then she said that doesn’t mean you have to be best friends again. Can you believe the same thing happened to Krista? A while ago, but the same thing! Krista—the cheerleader and who was in the homecoming court? Isn’t that unbelievable?”

  “I told you, Misty. It happens to absolutely everyone.” She smiled.

  “Well, somehow it helped to know Stephanie was getting a little of her own medicine. I apologize for that, but it’s true.”

  “We’re only human,” Iris said. “Um, don’t feel obligated to stay late.”

  “Oh, I’m looking forward to it. Krista has the car today and is going to give me a ride home. My brother will take the bus from middle school. And, hey—it’s a long time before I get any kind of class schedule for next year, but can I work in this office again? As long as my grades are good?”

  “I’d be honored. And I won’t hold you to it if it turns out there’s something else you need to do with that time.”

  “The connections in this office are pretty amazing,” Misty said. “It even gets points with the teachers.”

  Iris raised an eyebrow, curious. “Good to know I have power.”

  It had only been a couple of months and Misty appeared to be finished grieving over being dumped by a best friend. Iris found herself thinking she wished she had been that strong at that age. Seth wasn’t the only best friend she’d lost along the way. There had been girlfriends here and there, as well. It was never easy, letting them go, carrying on alone. And she had been telling the truth—absolutely everyone goes through it and it’s heart-wrenching.

  She was patting herself on the back for having done something right even though it had been such a shot in the dark. Decorating with the girls and a couple of their friends who didn’t work in the office turned out to be a major undertaking and Iris was running late. She’d had two calls from Seth and they’d settled on him cooking dinner at her house. She knew he wouldn’t go to too much trouble but was happy it was off her schedule.

  She was finally cleaning up her desk at almost six o’clock. The school was quiet and dark except for the basketball practice coming to an end just down the hall.

  “How dare you,” a voice said from the door. “How dare you accuse anyone of doing anything wrong!”

  She recognized the voice immediately even though she’d never before heard Rachel speak so angrily. She stood slowly. “Rachel, what’s wrong?”

  “We’re being investigated! My family, Brett’s family, even some of my friends. All this about someone’s hitting me? We talked about this. You’re crazy. No one is hitting me. No one is hurting me!”

  “I’m not sure I’m clear on what’s happening, but if there’s nothing wrong, then nothing more will come of it.”

  “But it was you! Don’t deny it!”

  “There might be more than one person concerned that you’re safe,” Iris said calmly.

  “No, there’s not more than one—it’s you. Why don’t you just mind your own business! I’m fine, I’m happy, I want to be left alone.”

  “Rachel, if someone has raised a question, just go through the steps. Tell the truth and move on. Who’s investigating your family?”

  “I don’t know—some stupid child welfare person. And I am not a child! I’m sixteen. I’m old enough to get married if I want to. You’re ruining my life! Now everyone is upset. My family is upset. Brett’s parents are furious. It’s just a mess.”

  “Rachel, sit down a minute. Let’s talk about this.”

  She laughed meanly. “The last thing I’m going to do is sit and talk to you again!”

  “Look, stay calm. You know I was concerned about your injuries, but are you so sure I’m the only one?”

  “Yes, I’m sure! It’s you!”

  And with that she turned and left. Iris could hear her running down the hall.

  Wow, Iris thought. The day after Thanksgiving break? After she’d talked to Connie at the DHS office, knowing how busy everyone was, she had not expected this case to be handled so quickly. In fact, Conni
e had predicted that it could be months if anything at all happened.

  Unless there had been more than one report, more than one complaint. Troy would have told her and she knew of no one else. She looked at her watch. It was too late in the day to catch Connie at the DHS office.

  Seventeen

  The nice thing about the two weeks after Thanksgiving was that Grace wasn’t worked to death. Aside from a couple of funeral bouquets and a centerpiece, there wasn’t a huge demand on her time. There were very few weddings in December and this year she hadn’t contracted any of them. Of course, the two weeks before Christmas would be frantic preparing wreaths, centerpieces, festive bouquets and orders of all kinds from out of town.

  She closed the shop a little early and drove out to Cooper’s. She thought about walking there, but after a day on her feet, designing and selling, enough was enough and she drove instead. She walked in the back door from the parking lot and jumped up on a bar stool.

  Troy smiled at her. “What’s up?”

  “Just checking in. I hope your Thanksgiving was good.”

  “As a matter of fact, it was great.”

  “How was skiing?”

  “I didn’t go. The forecast wasn’t that great and I had a couple of friends in a little town in the mountains in California. I went down there and did a little hunting. Then drove back.”

  “Aw, you missed Thanksgiving dinner?”

  “No, I had a great Thanksgiving dinner. There’s a little bar in that town—I’m friendly with the owner and my friend works there part-time. They put out a big spread. I had a good time. How about you?”

  “Well, I was planning to lie around in my pajamas all day but Carrie found out. I ended up at the McCains’ with their entire extended family.”

  “I thought you were going to the Sileski family gathering.”

  “I was invited,” she said. “So were you. But in the end the only people I really knew were Seth and Iris and I decided I’d really earned a long day of movies. Well, and the parade. I always watch the parade.”

  He gave the bar a wipe. “Drink?”

  “A merlot?” she asked.

  He poured the wine and put it in front of her. “What will you do for Christmas?”

  “I’m not sure,” she said. “I have friends in Portland and a standing invitation, but I don’t mind if I’m on my own. I kind of like it. What about you?”

  “I’m committed to family. My mom and dad are in San Diego but my sister, her husband and three rug rats are in Morro Bay on the California coast. We’ll all go there.”

  “That sounds fun. Big family?”

  “A younger brother and sister. She’s married, he’s in college. How about you? Big family?”

  “No, not really. I lost my parents and I have aunts, uncles and cousins scattered around the country. No sibs, but cousins who are like sibs. I’ve been so bad about keeping in touch since I bought the shop. My fault. I could make time. I should make time.”

  “I know,” he said. “I’m not good at that, either. I get a lot of complaints.”

  “I just wanted to say, I’d like to go skiing some time. I’m not very good. You might want to rethink that invitation. I used to be athletic, but it’s been a long time since I’ve been on skis.”

  “Then we’ll snowboard,” he said, grinning. “It’s harder.”

  “I have exceptional balance,” she said. “And Iris said she’d loan me some gear. I’d still have to rent a snowboard or skis or whatever the torture of the day is. And you can renege if you want because I’m sure I’d be a real load. Inexperienced skier, virgin snowboarder, it might get in the way of your ride. But things are slow over Christmas. There are weekends and you have time off....”

  “Let’s think about that,” he said.

  If she wasn’t completely mistaken, he didn’t look unhappy about it. “How long have you been snowboarding?”

  “Since I was about eight, I guess. Growing up in San Diego, we had access to everything. We could surf and ski and dive and climb. I learned to sail and parasail. The only thing that’s a lot better up here is the river rafting.” He whistled. “There are some rivers in this state that’ll make your life flash before your eyes.”

  “And you like that?”

  “I like that.”

  “Did you ever skate? Hockey or figure skating?” she asked.

  “Never had an interest, but I love to watch hockey.”

  “Good. After you humiliate me on the slopes I’m going to cream you on the ice.”

  “You’re a skater?”

  “I was,” she said. “When I was younger. I even took lessons. The past few years I’m only an expert at one thing—flowers.” She lifted her glass. “But I’m thinking of taking up wine tasting.”

  * * *

  It took two days for Connie to return Iris’s call. Yes, she had scheduled meetings with the Delaneys and the Davises for later in the week. “There was an unexpected break in my schedule and I thought it was best to get this case cleared if possible. And no, I didn’t mention your name to anyone, but if there’s an issue here I might have to. You understand.”

  “I understand,” Iris said. “And I can live with that. I was just doing my job and that’s part of my job.”

  “And we thank you,” Connie said.

  Iris took a deep breath and didn’t obsess about it. She hadn’t had too many situations as delicate as this in her short history as a counselor, but it came with the territory.

  Her office was relatively quiet and she paged through the newsletter from the state department of education, scanning. There was a section that listed suggested printouts, video aids, special programs, guest speakers and computer course assistance for both teachers and students. She’d begun looking for any kind of program that would address dating violence. She thought it might be something to take to the health ed classes. She’d already found a couple of online lectures and dramatizations, but they seemed dated to her so she kept looking for something better.

  Then, she suddenly saw a driving safety video on the list of recommendations with the name Sileski attached. There were only so many Sileskis. The video was called The Cop’s Ticket Quota. It was a YouTube video. She typed it into her computer, did a search and brought it up. And there he was. Well, he said he’d done a couple of programs for high school students.

  It appeared to be an assembly. Seth stood on a stage behind a podium with a large screen behind him. He introduced himself as Officer Seth Sileski and offered the three best ways to get out of a ticket.

  “But first, let me introduce you to me a few years ago, when I was eighteen,” he said. Up on the screen appeared a picture of a handsome young football player in a Ducks uniform, posing like a Heisman trophy winner. “And nineteen.” There he was in a Seahawks uniform. “At nineteen I pretty much had it all. My family was so proud of me. Especially my dad. He was the only dad in town who had a pro ball player for a son.” There was a picture of him in civilian clothes, leaning against a silver Ferrari. “I loved that car. I didn’t think I’d ever have a car like that,” he said to laughter from the audience. “Most of the guys in this room would give their left...ah, ear? For a car like that.” More laughter followed.

  Then he walked out from behind the podium and crossed the stage about halfway and Iris noticed at once that he limped a little more than usual.

  “And this is my best friend, Oscar. We shared some mighty important memories and are still close.”

  A picture of Oscar appeared on the screen. He was smiling his award-winning smile, but he was in the neck brace that held up his head, something he must have graduated out of in the years since the picture was taken. He looked happy enough. Anyone in that student audience who’d seen Seth in his football uniforms might have taken Oscar for a player who’d been injured pla
ying ball. In fact, since these were not Thunder Point kids and Seth’s days as a wunderkind were many years past, they might’ve thought his limp had something to do with football.

  “But I’m not here to bore you with the details of my exciting youth—I’m a cop now and we hate cops, right?” There was more laughter. “Cops just want to spoil our fun, right? And because I have the inside track, I can tell you how to get around ’em. They’re not as smart as they think they are. So let’s cut right to the chase. They’re only looking for one kind of driver—the driver that looks dangerous. Frankly, we don’t care that you’re ten miles over the limit if there’s no potential conflict involved. If you’re tearing down the highway at sixty-five in a fifty-five and there aren’t any other cars in sight, your cop probably has better things to do than go after you. But, if you’re weaving down the road at two in the morning, unable to stay in a lane, and your cop is on his way home, he’s going to say damn it, or worse, because he’s now forced to pull you over and check your sobriety before you kill yourself.

  “Cops don’t really have quotas. Well, some do. We do get bonuses at Christmas for making quotas, but that’s supposed to be a secret so don’t tell anyone.” He grinned, then grew very serious. “What we do have is a responsibility to prevent accidents. So there are three major reasons people have accidents. One—they’re impaired. Now, that could be drugs or alcohol, but it might also be they’re falling asleep. Or there’s even the possibility of a medical event—a heart attack or stroke or seizure. We can tell if someone’s impaired—they’re all over the road. Sometimes we can’t tell in time, so when we see it, we’re right on it. That’s gonna get attention—watch for that.

  “Reason number two—they’re distracted. Talking or texting on the cell phone will get you in trouble. We’re looking for that and we’re not waiting to see if that talking or texting is going to make you swerve—we’re going to stop you before you swerve into another vehicle. In fact, there are all kinds of distractions—too many passengers in the car, fussy baby in the backseat, big bunch of balloons for the girlfriend, hyperactive dog bouncing all over the place... So what do you do if you’re distracted and you know it? Before one of those self-serving, quota-making cops spoils your fun, just pull over and handle the distraction. I hate to tell you that because I’m thinking about my Christmas bonus here and I hate to give up a penny of it.” He paused so the kids could laugh at the image he was presenting.

 

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